


i could do with keeping you near

by glasseslouis



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Angst, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Bubble Bath, Dan is Cute, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hand Jobs, Honeymoon, M/M, Marriage, Phan Fluff, Phil is cute, Smut, TATINOF, also they take baths, and drink wine, basically its their first night after their honeymoon and dan Feels Things, but just a lil smut u know, but only mild angst, they are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasseslouis/pseuds/glasseslouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's some time in the future. dan and phil are married. they have a quiet first night at home, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i could do with keeping you near

**Author's Note:**

> holy moly this was self indulgent 
> 
> but i hope u like it !! as always this is fiction not real life i own nothing pls dont sue me etc etc
> 
> title is from isabel by the wombats

When Phil tried to carry Dan over the threshold, he whacked Dan’s head on the doorframe. 

In retrospect, Dan should have seen that one coming. It was Phil, after all, the same Phil who tripped over his own feet on his way down the aisle at their wedding, the same Phil who slipped and fell on his bum during his proposal to Dan, and it was the same Phil who tried to bear-hug Dan the first day they met and accidentally just pushed him over.

Dan’s body had been littered with bruises and scrapes over the years, most of them non-intentional, all of them caused by Phil. To be fair, he didn’t mind it as much as he used to. It was nice to have an excuse for Phil to baby him. 

Take now, for instance. Phil had sat Dan on the kitchen island and was pressing a bag of frozen peas to his forehead and fussing over him; he’d Googled how to check for a concussion and was trying to shine his phone torch in Dan’s eyes to see how his pupils would react. Dan giggled and pushed Phil’s phone away, feeling his heart stutter when the obnoxiously bright light caught on his wedding band.

“I’m fine, you doof. You barely lifted me three inches off the ground; you didn’t exactly throw me into the wall, Hulk-style.”

It was the truth. They were too tall for either of them to properly carry the other through the door, so Phil had just kind of wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist to lift him into the front hall, resulting in Dan clocking his head on “one-hundred percent solid pine,” as their realtor had reminded them many times before they’d signed the papers.

Dan was finally starting to realize that tradition didn’t tend to work out in their favor, but he appreciated the effort on Phil’s part. They’d done everything full-on for the wedding, all according to the rules, proper stag parties and no peeking at the other’s outfits, sleeping apart the night before the wedding and something borrowed, something blue. It had been quite the affair, starting with Phil’s proposal in front of what used to be the Manchester Eye to their honeymoon in Japan.

Dan brought his hand on top of Phil’s to keep the bag of peas steady and wrapped his legs around the small of Phil’s back, pulling him close. The house still smelled of fresh paint, and towers of half-packed cardboard boxes and grocery bags surrounded them. Things were messy, furniture in the wrong rooms and stepladders leaning against walls, but everything was quiet and Dan was deliriously happy.

The point of moving to Brighton was to get away from all the noise. They’d spent three years working on their tour and going around the world to show it to everyone; the experience was incredible, and Dan wouldn’t change a thing about it for the world, but when they’d got home, he was exhausted. They both were. It had been a slump like he’d never experienced before, spending days in bed with Phil alternating between giving each other hot drinks, hot food, and backrubs. Dan didn’t quite understand it fully until Phil put it in perspective; it was like post-concert depression, but it was the best concert ever and it had lasted three years. They were mentally, emotionally, and physically drained, and rightfully so.

Once they had finally recovered, it just sort of made sense. They talked about moving to somewhere quieter than London – without the radio show, there was no real reason for them to be hanging around there, and they seemed to have graduated from their little flat. They’d been hemming and hawing about a place to go until PJ and Sophie had talked them into looking at flats in Brighton. Then, Phil proposed, and wedding plans started to happen, and before they really knew it, they were signing a deed to a house. 

Now, here they were.

“Kiss me,” Dan mumbled, still clutching the frozen peas, still feeling in some ways like the shy eighteen year old Phil had picked up from the train station. Phil obliged him, tipping his head back and brushing their lips over each other’s. Dan couldn’t believe they were actually _married_. Like, that was a real thing, not just some fantasy that he dreamed up to torture himself in 2012.

“I’m in love with you,” Phil whispered into Dan’s cheek, and Dan felt his ears burn. He was in love with Phil too; he chose to show it rather than say it by pressing kisses to Phil’s jaw. It was kind of dumb, probably, to be as invested as he was in just the idea of their new house. He’d lived with Phil for nearly ten years prior to this; this wasn’t anything new. However, it felt different. Bigger. People knew they were married, there were no big secrets anymore, and everything was just comfortable.

“Monogamy is a turn on,” Dan slurred into Phil’s neck, love drunk.

“Is that why I can feel your cock ready to jump out of your jeans? It’s practically stabbing me in the stomach,” Phil said, teasing.

“That’s none of your business,” Dan huffed, tugging at the hem of Phil’s t-shirt. “Now get me off.”

“That would definitely make it my business, then,” Phil giggled, pushing the button on Dan’s jeans in so it would pop open. He tugged Dan’s zipper down and let the back of his hand trail over the soft cloth of Dan’s boxer-briefs, feeling how hard he was. Dan whined and bucked his hips, but Phil pressed his palm into Dan’s thigh to keep him steady.

“You smell good,” Dan whispered, putting the peas on the counter and letting his forehead loll onto Phil’s shoulder. He smelled like cotton and paint and clean sweat from working all day; Dan wondered if they could make a Phil-scented air freshener. “Oh, fuck-” he moaned. Phil had shoved his hand down the front of Dan’s underwear and was tugging at his cock. It wasn’t exactly picture perfect, with the unplugged microwave digging into the small of Dan’s back and his boxers twisting uncomfortably up into his arse crack. Phil’s hands on him were good, though, like they hadn’t done this thousands of times before, and Dan found himself sucking at Phil’s jaw and nibbling at his ear.

It was fast, when Dan came, and it was kind of gross and messy when come dripped onto the kitchen counter, but Phil just laughed and washed his hands while Dan left his boxers and jeans on the floor in a heap, tending to the counter with a Lysol wipe. 

Some time later that night, when they’d drawn a bath in an effort to be romantic, and Phil was sitting on the edge of the tub while Dan sprawled in the bubbly water and sucked him off, Dan wondered why he’d ever worked so hard to deny himself this life. It wasn’t paradise, obviously. They were still going to fight about little things, Phil leaving socks everywhere, Dan making too much noise at night, and bigger things, too, things Dan didn’t want to think about. But Dan couldn’t imagine looking at anyone else every day for the rest of his life but Phil, and the fact that his twenty-one year old self had wasted so much time looking at everyone else just felt strange. Like, it was too good to be happening and that he didn’t deserve it. Like he should be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When they were sat facing each other in the water, long legs tangled underneath the bubbles, Dan just kind of blurted it out.

“I can’t believe I ever thought I wasn’t going to marry you one day.”

Phil looked at him, considering for a moment. “And I can’t believe you thought platypuses were extinct until like, two weeks ago.” 

When Dan just huffed and gave him a look, Phil pushed a wet hand through his hair. “Sorry, love. To be honest, I can’t relate. I’ve wanted to marry you since the day I met you.” When Dan looked even more antagonized, Phil nudged him under the water. “What are you thinking about, Bear? Why is that… stuff even on your mind? It was years ago.”

Dan didn’t have to ask Phil to clarify what “stuff” he was referring to; there was a phase, somewhere between the fights he and Phil had been having hand over fist, somewhere between aggressive denials to their audience about the exact details of their relationship, where “seeing other people” meant Dan raising the population count of his bedroom exponentially while Phil went on dates with people he didn’t like but thought would make Dan jealous. Growing pains, they’d called it, laughed it off awkwardly when the dust finally settled before learning how to belong to the other person again.

“It’s just-” Dan started, not missing the way Phil settled in, his body language indicating that he was ready for a classically long Dan ramble. “Everything’s perfect right now, you know? Like, perfect in the way that it was when we first met. And not to be a pessimist or anything, but I know it’s not going to last forever. And I’m scared for when it’s not perfect.” 

It was quiet for a moment, and Dan felt his heartbeat soar into triple time. What if Phil hadn’t considered this either? What if he was changing his mind? What if-?

Dan’s whirring thoughts were cut off when he felt Phil move through the water, next to him. It was a tight squeeze in the small tub to sit like this, since both of them had more height than they knew what to do with, but Phil put his head on Dan’s shoulder, and they somehow made it fit. “It’s never been perfect, Dan,” he said quietly. “Even today, that wasn’t perfect. I broke your mum’s vase, and we couldn’t agree on where to put the guest bed. There’s always going to be something, big or small, but it’s not about that, you know? You make me feel so… good. Important, even. Enough so that I don’t worry about little quarrels or disagreements or what have you. I hope I do the same for you. And besides that, we’re better now, aren’t we, at the general life and relationship stuff? We’re not the people that we were five years ago, or seven. We’re not even the people we were when we first met. But it’s not a bad thing. We still have the best parts of us, just less of the bad communication stuff. We love each other, and people who love each other always come back to each other.”

He looked up, tucking a strand of Dan’s hair behind his ear. “You’ve always worried about where things are going and what’s happening, so I don’t expect you to stop any time soon. But try not to forget that we’re in this together, you know?”

Dan’s ears warmed when Phil pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he managed to turn his head and pull Phil down for a proper kiss without banging either of their heads on the faucet. “In this together,” he mumbled into Phil’s lips. “I love you so much.”

The rest of the night carried on, and Dan felt better. He wasn’t floating on a cloud, nor was he dreading what was to come. He felt grounded; things were normal.

After they drained the bath, they ordered pizza twice, since Phil accidentally sent the first round to their old flat’s address in London, and ate it on the floor when it arrived because all of their tables were still in storage to be retrieved tomorrow. Dan got garlic sauce on his laptop. They both drank a little too much wine, which lead to a semi-aggressive, pizza-y makeout session that night and headaches in the morning, but they were happy.

In their little home on the Brighton coast, it was all they could ever ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> me: [quietly self inserts all of my relationship problems and desired outcomes into fic as a coping mechanism]
> 
> ahem
> 
> im thicc-liam on tumblr if u wanna talk phan with me!!


End file.
